


Continuing Education

by azn-jack-fiend (ajf)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, PWP, mmf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-21
Updated: 2010-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajf/pseuds/azn-jack-fiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a lot more experience than Rose in a couple of areas. Perhaps it's time to even things up a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Continuing Education

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first OT3 fic ever. **heddychaa** and **canaana**  betaed and suggested lots of important changes. Thanks!

Show-off. Jack knew it. No, he didn't just know it, he _owned_ it.

And he couldn't think of a better way to show off than where he was right this second, on his knees, circling his tongue around the Doctor's cock.

Jack teased the tip of his tongue all over the slit at the head, let out a low, happy moan and lowered his mouth onto the hard, taut shaft, only going halfway down before rising back up again and returning to the slow circling motion. He didn't want to rush this. It felt too good ― sure, he was _working_ in some sense, but this was almost nothing like a _job_ , it was a _privilege_ , one he was absolutely, ecstatically, grateful for ―

― and besides that, he wanted to make sure Rose took in every movement, every twist of his head, every turn of his mouth and lap of his tongue. Rose, kneeling to his right, her soft, warm shoulder brushing against his.

He didn't need to look to her to know what she must be feeling, based on her rapid, ragged breaths, catching a little at the back of her throat. She loved watching Jack do this so much she'd have fallen to her knees by now, if she weren't on them already.

He wanted to please them both. Wanted it so badly he felt as if his blood were on fire, as if he'd burn away and fade into the air without the proof of their desire. He wanted to force himself forward, show just how good he was, take the Doctor all the way in, do it over and over again until he came right down Jack's tight throat or hot against the back of his mouth or across his face, any way the Doctor wanted, really, any way at all.

Instead, Jack drew back, paused for a second ― pulling back, letting the maddening, indefinable taste slide wetly away from his lips, oh, that was _so hard_ ― and turned to Rose.

The Doctor shifted, leaned forward from the edge of the low bed he was reclining on, and touched the side of Jack's face with his long, rough fingers. Jack didn't look up into his eyes ― that would have been too much, too intense in this moment ― but the Doctor's touch spelled _approval_ , soaked it into his skin and sent him drifting to a calmer, cooler level of arousal.

"Your turn?" Jack, offering, said to Rose. Rose, wide-eyed and a little wild and very, very ready.

~~~

In a cozy TARDIS lounge-analogue, Jack and Rose were curled up on a couch together watching a confusing but highly entertaining old Earth movie packed full of gunfights and improbable car chases, the kind the Doctor scoffed at, when Jack turned to her and asked if she had any... insecurities.

"That's the right word, isn't it?" he asked. She blushed sweetly and couldn't meet his eyes.

"I know people from your time don't talk about these things much," he said, trying to reassure her without sounding _too_ patronizing. “But give it a try. Us humans need to stick together. We've got to pool our intelligence and coordinate our attacks." This, in his best pompous parade-ground tone. And then, to illustrate his point, he sneak-attacked her with a cushion-thwack to the side of the head.

 _Now_ she looked at him. And launched a counterattack. He held her off with his longer reach, punching away her cushion, but retreated as soon as she changed tactics and threw her weapons spinning through the air. A few minutes later they were gasping with laughter, couch cushions scattered as if by a hurricane. Rose's giggles died down as she rested her head on Jack's thigh, as he smoothed her hair behind her ears.

"I've seen the way you look at me when I'm going down on him," said Jack. “But you don't do it yourself."

Rose sighed in frustration. “It's just ― makes me feel like I could never do that. Wouldn't be any good at it, that's all. People say that blokes ― well, I suppose women don't have a natural feel for it."

"You know I'm not one for false modesty," Jack said, “or any kind of modesty. I am _amazing_ at sucking cock. But I didn't get that way overnight. I had a lot of guidance and practice."

"You lot all go to sex uni, don't you?" asked Rose with a fond smile, still blushing a little.

"I was top of the class, sweetheart. Or the bottom, depending. And sometimes the middle. In fact― "

Rose curled up laughing as Jack just carried on, flogging and flogging the joke until she finally bounced back up and silenced him with a pillow to the face.

"Seriously," he said, relieved to see her so at ease, “if you ever want to try, just let me know. We can start off slow. It's up to you. Whatever you like."

She nodded thoughtfully.

~~~

In Jack's eyes, awkward movement seemed entirely impossible, alien, to Rose: the confidence woven into her sleek gymnast's body always carried through and charged her movements full of grace. Touching them both, leaning forward, she centered herself and began just like Jack: licking, circling, no hesitation. The sight of the tip of her pink tongue against the Doctor's cock, already shiny wet from his own mouth, twisted something deep inside him and slammed home the fact that he was aching hard. The whole situation was hard on so many levels, but _so_ delicious, _so_ worth it. He sucked in a deep breath and made himself go back to that cool place. Fought down the urge to stroke his cock to the rhythm of Rose's bobbing head.

Instead, he combed his fingers through her hair and brushed it back, curling it behind her ear, keeping it lightly pressed with the side of his forefinger. The angles of her face were beautiful, almost crystal-sharp. He wanted the Doctor to keep them in vision, too.

He took her right hand in his own and went to guide her, slowly, bringing her hand to his mouth, licking the palm and the underside of her fingers, lingering just a little on the delicate areas where her fingers met each other. He left her hand kissed and moist and wrapped it, still curled in his own, around the base of the Doctor's shaft so that they could begin to move in time. Slow time, nice and slow and easy.

Rose made a small, high-pitched sound, like half a sigh, sung.

He took away his hand now that she had the rhythm, returned to holding her hair back, and murmured, “Look up, darling," in her ear.

That moment was always electric, whether he was giving or getting, that moment of pulling back and checking and oh _that's_ how you look when you ― _this_ is how I make you ― see me, _show_ me. Rose looked up with her full mouth and wide eyes and Jack looked up as well and saw the Doctor looking down on both of them, strange light in his eyes but human-compassionate, warm, admiring. Jack imagined himself in those eyes, handsome and willing and giving, kneeling there next to Rose, and now the moment wasn't just electric, it was intense on some kind of doubled-up quantum level of insanely improbable intensity.

Once the moment passed, Jack drifted into a pleasant haze for a little while. He remembered to breathe again, relaxing, curving forward to rest the side of his head on the Doctor's knee. Not much presence of mind left, just enough to smile to himself and occasionally stroke Rose's hair.

"Fantastic," he said to her, stealing the Doctor's line quite on purpose, a little insolence to show that he wasn't ― wait, he _was_ , no point denying it, but hey, the insolence was still fun. “You're doing great, Rose."

Rose had her eyes closed now; she was at that point of self-overwhelming purpose he recognized and loved. More soft sounds from somewhere deep inside her, half pleased, half distressed. She'd reached her limit.

He'd talked to her beforehand about this, because he didn't want to ruin the mood while it was actually happening. Not that out-and-out coaching couldn't be sexy, maybe in a different setting ― focus, Jack, focus.

She was close. She tipped her head and moved forward and ― yes, her lips, her throat, right there ― the Doctor's thigh tensed, the feel of hardened muscle against the side of Jack's face setting off a sympathetic ricochet down through his own body, tightening his stomach and his cock and balls and clenching his fingers until he found himself fisting the sheets just as she pulled away, all the way back, gasping, sobbing, eyes teared up from the disturbing joy of it.

"That's right," said Jack, softly, trailing the back of his hand against her cheek. “All the way. You did it. That's good for now, and it only gets easier. Do you want me to finish?"

Rose looked at him and smiled a little mischievously and shook her head. He grinned back. He was fine, either way.

"Alright then," he said, leaning up and wrapping his right hand around the base of the Doctor's cock. A remark involving relay races and batons came to mind, but he decided to save it for later, because Rose was slipping into that state of focus again, slipping her lips onto the Doctor again, and there it was, finally, a low moan coming from above them as Jack began a steady, short stroke.

He murmured words to stoke the heat that burned through them all: _she's ready_ and _yes_ and _make him come_ and _take it_ and ― now ― he felt the pulse as the Doctor cried out and tensed and Rose... the look on her face...

Being next to her suddenly wasn't anywhere near enough. As soon as she pulled back, he uncoiled, took her by the shoulders and pressed her, almost slammed her, up against him so that he could go for her mouth, his tongue forcing her teeth apart. She tasted of herself and the Doctor mixed together and she moaned as she opened wider for him, letting his tongue swirl and stir down into her.

Drunk on the afterglow of a secondhand blowjob, he entirely forgot to keep his balance when Rose leaned harder against him. The next heartbeat he found himself flat on his back at the foot of the bed, panting and laughing as Rose wriggled on top of him, their legs tangled, her breasts momentarily squashed against his chest (he hoped with no bruises, but oh, that was a nice _bounce_ right there) before she raised herself up a bit.

"You've got me now," he said, still laughing. “What do you want ― oh _fuck_ ―" She was on him, working herself down onto his cock, riding him. He shouted something low and incoherent as she screamed, then he rubbed his fingers all over and around her cunt and brought them wet to his lips and sucked them clean while she fucked him harder. She was cresting right now, frantic with need, easy to tip over, no reason to hold back, so he thrust his hips upwards and won another scream from her, rubbed her clit and squeezed his eyes shut until he saw stars, trying not to come himself as she trembled into completion all around and above him.

Jack didn't want to come yet. But he'd forgotten why. He only remembered when he opened his eyes and looked up to see the Doctor lying along the edge of the bed, the sharp, hard lines of his body as stretched out and relaxed as they'd ever be. Jack lay pinned under his eyes, wanting to tell him... ask him... the words had all run dry, and nothing came out of his mouth but a kind of wanting sigh. The Doctor looked down on him with that same expression as before, admiring, _approving_ , and reached his arm down, slow and deliberate, to stroke Jack's lips with his fingers.

 _I want you inside me, please,_ thought Jack, and the Doctor seemed to know it, crooking two fingers into Jack's mouth so that he could kiss them and suck on them while Rose still trembled on top of him.

When he came, he arched upwards, shoulders grinding into the carpeted floor, every muscle straining, thinking of nothing but love, and then, nothing.

When he came _back_ , Rose was nestled on top of his chest, the Doctor was gently stroking his face and he felt gloriously wet and sticky everywhere below his waist.

"Wow," Jack said, grinning stupidly.

"Sounds about right," said the Doctor, grinning too, a little more cleverly.

"How'd we do?" asked Jack, not really knowing exactly who he was asking.

"Fantastic. Always are."

"Show-off," murmured Rose into Jack's chest.

"I try," he said, closing his eyes, drifting. "I try."


End file.
